شعر إنجليزي

,How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth !Stol’n on his wing my three-and-twentieth year

I am the Lost Classmate being hunted down the superhighways .and byways of infinite cyber-space How long can I evade the class committee

هي قصيدة باللغة اليونانية كتبها الشاعر المصري قسطنطين بيتر كفافي، تعرض هذه القطعة رحلة أوديسيوس إلى إيثاكا، موطنه الأصلي، كتبت هذه القصيدة مؤكدة على دور إيثاكا في حياة أوديسيوس

?Tis true, ’tis day; what though it be ?O wilt thou therefore rise from me ?Why should we rise, because ’tis light ?Did we lie down, because ’twas night

,The gorilla lay on his back ,One hand cupped under his head .Like a man

,Once upon a time, son they used to laugh with their hearts :and laugh with their eyes ,but now they only laugh with their teeth

هو ألفريد اللورد تينيسون، وهو أكثر من أي كاتب آخر من العصر الفيكتوري تجسيدًا لعصره، لكل من معاصريه ولقراء العصر الحديث، وقيل إنه في أيامه مع الملكة فيكتوريا ورئيس الوزراء

,Indeed indeed, I cannot tell ,Though I ponder on it well Which were easier to state All my love or all my hate

.The skin cracks like a pod .There never is enough water

,There's just no accounting for happiness or the way it turns up like a prodigal who comes back to the dust at your feet .having squandered a fortune far away

The whiskey stink of rot has settled in the garden, and a burst of fruit flies rises .when I touch the dying tomato plants

.For marriage, love and love alone’s the argument Sweet ceremony, then hand in hand we go .Taking to our changed, still dangerous days, our complement We think we know ourselves, but all we know

In sixth grade Mrs. Walker slapped the back of my head and made me stand in the corner for not knowing the difference

,Just by the wooden brig a bird flew up Frit by the cowboy as he scrambled down To reach the misty dewberry—let us stoop ,And seek its nest—the brook we need not dread

,He could not die when trees were green  .For he loved the time too well  ,His little hands, when flowers were seen  ,Were held for the bluebell 

:All around, shards of a lost tradition From the Rough Field I went to school In the Glen of the Hazels. Close by ;Was the bishopric of the Golden Stone

The present reigned supreme Like the shallow floods over the gutters ,Over the raw paths where we had been .The house with the shutters

,The night we fled the country, Papi ,you told me we were going to the beach ,hurried me to get dressed along with the others while posted at a window, you looked out

,I am lulled by the imprint of ancient tales .Written in blood red, vermilion hue ,Man and tattered dreadlocks us ,As dragonflies we drink our thirst

,Sweetest love, I do not go ,For weariness of thee Nor in hope the world can show ;A fitter love for me

We were running out of breath, as we ran out to meet ourselves. We .Were surfacing the edge of our ancestors’ fights, and ready to Strike .It was difficult to lose days in the Indian bar if you were Straight Easy if you played pool and drank to remember to forget. We

,Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir ,Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine ,With a cargo of ivory ,And apes and peacocks .Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine

Beanville. Tea party. Five black cats & a white boy. Chitlin ,circuit. Gravy-colored suits

.Forgive me that I pitch your praise too low ,Such reticence my reverence demands .For silence falls with laying on of hands

هي قصيدة للشاعرة بنيامين صفنيا، وهي قصيدة تبدو للوهلة الأولى أنها تصف سلسلة من الرقصات التي تحدث في جميع أنحاء العالم، ولكن على مستوى أعمق يستخدم صفنيا هذه الرقصات والمواقع

You only love me when it’s raining  ?Why can’t you love me when it’s bright Keep hoping for the rainclouds So you can come and make it all right

I will go with my Father a-ploughing  ,To the Green Field by the sea  And the rooks and corbies and seagulls  .Will come flocking after me 

هي قصيدة للكاتب تشارلز بوكوفسكي، وتصف القصيدة علاقة المتحدث بمشاعره وعدم قدرته على الاعتراف بأنه لا يمكن أن يكون دائمًا قويًا وذكيًا، يصف الشاعر وجود العصفور الأزرق في قلب المتحدث

هي قصيدة للشاعر تشارلز لامب، تستكشف القصيدة مواضيع من عجائب الطبيعة والجمال، وهي قصيدة بسيطة تتحدث بفرح عن ألوان قوس قزح وأهميتها في الحياة، وهي موجهة إلى ماتيلدا وهي شخص مهم للمتحدث

الحكاية الخرافية كما يستحضر عنوان عمل إيمي لويل هي شيء يمكن للجميع تقريبًا الارتباط به، الحكاية الخيالية النموذجية على الأقل كما فهمت اليوم هي مزيج غريب من المأساة والمتاعب